


2. Five tries to make Honey stop smoking

by aguwustdick (sugandrew), beary_scary



Series: A Simple Spoonful [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: But also not, Five has PTSD, Five needs a hug, Honey is like a cool big sister, Mentions of the Apocalypse, References to PTSD, Smoking, Swearing, You can't tell me otherwise, and Honey is technically younger than him, because Five is old, kind of, nicotine addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 19:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugandrew/pseuds/aguwustdick, https://archiveofourown.org/users/beary_scary/pseuds/beary_scary
Summary: Five tries to make our resident broke bitch stop smoking. Not that he cares about her health at all. No. Not at all.





	2. Five tries to make Honey stop smoking

Honey was an occasional smoker; she smoked one, maybe two cigarettes per day, which was two Marlboros too many for Five.

He didn’t like to see her become a human chimney. It was killing her and at the same time the ashes and the smoke reminded him of death, and he wasn’t having any of it.

Since he met her he knew that the sleep deprived girl had something special besides, well, the ability of laughing at a thirteen year old.

When he left he saw that she was going out too, and curiosity got the best of him. Then he saw her puffing smoke while leaning against the brick wall of the shop.

He didn’t know why he felt that disappointed, he didn’t even know the girl.

So that day he stomped the cigarette, and the next time he did the same thing, and he would continue until she gave up and stopped smoking when he was around.

Some of the days she had to close the cafe, Honey would kick him out and he’d wait outside for her to finish, only to distinguish the Marlboro she lights while leaving the shop.

After a few weeks of stomping and breaking cigarettes he decided he was tired of it and stole the pack out of her jacket (and maybe he crushed it to death under his feet and kept it in his pocket even if it made him stink of tobacco). He squished it when he felt anxious, when he remembered the smoke, the ashes and the dust.

He realized that was a temporary solution when he saw Honey opening a brand new box of Marlboros as she left through the back door.

The long term solution was a little more extreme, but it was worth it. Not because of _her_ , because he hated to remember those good old days. So he stole her wallet, leaving her subway card behind, obviously.

That night after she kicked him out, he stayed, looking through the window, crushed cigarettes in his left hand and the stolen item in the right one, holding them like his life depended on it. In another universe it probably did.

So he stood there, back against the wall waiting for her to give up and finally close the shop.

“Hey, Five, have you seen my wallet?” She asked, voice tired and resigned.

“No, why?” His fingers squeezed the item even more. Why was he feeling guilty?

“I think someone stole it.” She sounded not desperate, but sad. “I don’t have money to buy dinner.” Oh, shit.

“I have some extra cash. I can give you some.” He said with fake nonchalance.

“Really? You’re thirteen, did you steal it from your brothers or something?” No. I stole it from you, he thought.

“Come on, dinner’s on me.” He had to make sure that she didn’t buy cigarettes with the money, it was _not_ because he wanted to talk with her.

They ended up eating in the parking lot of a McDonalds (because the place was really fucking loud) and the two had one of those philosophical discussions about nothing that usually ended up with Five, annoyed, telling her, with that old man tone, that she was wrong for this and that reason, while Honey laughed and called him a bitter grandpa, almost choking on her burger. ‘Karma’ he said as she coughed and glared at him.

After a few days of that, Five finally revealed the wallet, pretending that he found it under a table. “How did you miss it? It was literally there.” He said. He was a good actor, even though he hated to lie. It was for the best, and she was going to be okay, I mean, he is going to be okay.

In the end she ended up smoking about one cigarette per week when she thought he didn’t know. But he did. She smoked when she was anxious, which used to be a lot, but it had gotten better as she laughed and chatted with the old man-child. The jacket still smelled of tobacco, and Five’s pockets would always have the residue of the crushed cigarettes that he still stole from her when she wasn’t looking.


End file.
